Here with You
by foreverme98
Summary: Future fic for Am I Dead. Random one-shots.
1. Chapter 1

by lifelive94

My hand presses against my as-of-now flat stomach. In a couple months, it will be rounded with Eric's child.

How can someone be excited and terrified at the same time? How can someone want to laugh and cry simultaneously?

I've learned many things in my 20 years and I've come to understand that being human is complicated. Being human means learning how to handle colliding, explosive emotions on a daily basis. Only I'm lost as to how I should handle the emotions being thrown at me now.

I can't find it in me to regret the life growing inside of me. It will change everything, perhaps it will destroy what Eric and I have, but I'll deal with it.

There's no doubt in my mind that Eric loves me. We've just never discussed children before. And he's never talked about his father in detail, but I do know he abandoned Eric before he was even born. I can't imagine Eric will want this baby.

I have all these scenarios running through my mind and most of them end in Eric leaving. My overactive imagination is running wild, and I can't stay in our room anymore.

I quickly head to the training room. It's basically empty, with just a few new initiates practicing hand to hand combat. I stride over to the knives, pick one up and without hesitating I fling it at the target.

It hits the bullseye. I hardly ever miss anymore.

I keep throwing the knives, until my arm feels like it's going to fall off. I don't stop. I can't stop because if I do I'm going to have to think about being pregnant and what that means.

I'm sweating through my tank top and I'm panting like I used to when my body wasn't used to exercise. I'm so tired my arm is shaking. I keep going though.

"You missed dinner," Eric yells from the doorway.

My heart speeds up inside my chest. "Lost track of time," I reply.

I hold the cold metal end of the knife in the palm of my hand. I grip onto it, as I watch Eric's slow approach. My stomach is doing somersaults.

It's been a long time since I felt the urge to run from Eric.

"Everything okay?" He asks.

I paste on what I hope is a smile. "Yeah."

He's got that look on his face. The look that tells me he doesn't believe me. "You've destroyed the targets," he says, as if that somehow proves I'm lying.

I hadn't noticed but he's right. They're marked up almost beyond recognition. "Oh," I say.

Brows furrowed, he asks, "What's going on, Tris?"

"Is there something wrong with wanting to get some practice in?" I hedge.

I have no clue how to tell him the truth. I have no idea how to tell him he's going to be a father.

"No, not if that's all that's going on here," he says.

I glance around and I notice the initiates have left. I hadn't noticed their departure...

"That's all that's-" I stop. I throw a hand over my mouth, and I do everything I can to keep the contents in my stomach, _in my stomach._

"Eric," I gasp, before I start running as hard as I can to the nearest bathroom. It's too far to our apartment, so I run to the dormitories public restroom.

I barely reach the toilet before I'm throwing up. It's violent and it's humiliating. And I don't want anyone, especially Eric seeing me like this, but he's followed me, immediately pulling my hair back for me.

Tears are pouring down my face when I turn back to him. "You don't have to stay for this," I tell him.

He rubs my back in small circles. "I'm not leaving," he replies.

"Not yet," I respond quietly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks.

I shake my head, flush the toilet, and stagger to my feet. He stays put as I walk to the sink. Turning the faucet on, I splash cold water on my flushed face.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on, or am I going to have to start guessing?" His voice is hard. He's frustrated. I can't blame him.

I watch the water fall from the faucet to disappear down the drain. "I'm pregnant," I whisper.

Saying the word out loud makes it more real. In 9 months, give or take, I'm going to be a mom.

"I found out today. Great news, right?" I laugh humorlessly.

Once I've gotten started, I can't seem to stop. "I don't know if it's a boy or girl yet. I'm kind of hoping for a boy, I think."

"You're pregnant," he repeats.

He stands up; covers the distance separating us. "You- _we_ are going to have a baby?"

"Yes," I say, turning to face him.

I've never run away from a difficult situation before, and I won't start now.

His eyes light on my stomach. I wish I could tell what he's thinking. He's not giving anything away. He could be seconds from running away for all I know. What exactly will I do if he walks out? How will I raise a child on my own?

Falling to his knees, he lifts my shirt up, exposing my stomach to the cool air. Hesitantly, he places a hand on my stomach. "A baby," he says. "We're going to be parents, Stiff." He looks up at me, his expression a fascinating blend of awe and wonder.

"You're okay with this?" I ask. "You want it?"

Looking taken aback, he says, "Why wouldn't I want the life we created? It's a part of us. A perfect mixture of you and me," he breathes.

"I wasn't sure-we've never talked about..." I trail off, not sure how to tell him the worries I've been dealing with all day.

Understanding creeps into his eyes. "I see. You thought I wouldn't want the responsibility of having a kid?"

"It did cross my mind," I admit.

"I'm not my father," he says.

I sigh. "I know that. I guess I was scared." I shrug helplessly. "It's so unexpected. We use protection every time...this wasn't supposed to happen."

"You don't want our baby?" He asks.

The hurt clouding his face soothes my worries more than words ever could. "Of course I want it. I just didn't think we'd have children till we were older," I reply softly.

"Me too," he says, "but I'm excited. I'm going to be a dad." He laughs, leans in to kiss right below my belly button.

The fear that I'd end up alone in this adventure falls away. We're going to do this. Together.

 _Three months later_

"Get someone else."

"Eric," I try reasoning.

"There's no way I'm letting you train those kids," he says firmly. "Things could go south in a heartbeat."

"How many times have you been hurt by a student?" I ask, brow raised.

Shaking his head, he says, "Not the point. One of them could shoot you by accident...or something. They could hurt you and Grace."

"You mean Daniel," I say.

"No, pretty sure I meant Grace," he replies, tugging on my pony tail affectionately.

I roll my eyes. "Whatever you say. Regardless, you can't keep me on bed rest for another 3 months. I'm pregnant, not dying," I say.

We've had this argument multiple times. Pregnancy has turned Eric into a paranoid mess. Anything and everything is a potential threat in his mind.

"It wouldn't hurt for you to cooperate, you know," he says.

"You worry too much," I shoot back.

Rolling over he rests his chin on my stomach. It's another quirk he picked up once we learned I was pregnant. He takes every opportunity to touch my tummy in some way or other.

"I think I worry the right amount," he says, "because I only want you to be safe. I would do anything, trade everything I have to prevent anything bad from happening to you."

"You win," I huff.

"Sorry?"

"You didn't want me to train the new initiates; I'm giving in. If you would rather I not, then I won't," I say.

His smile is slow, steady. He doesn't smile like he's won, but like he's just glad I won't be in harm's way.

"Thank you," he says.

"Just don't get used to bossing me around," I tease.

"I don't want someone who would let me boss them around. I want you," he tells me.

 _Tris just had her baby_

"He's got your nose," Eric murmurs.

I've never been quite this exhausted before. I would do it again and again and again to get back to this moment. I would never stop if I got the chance to just _be_ with my small family.

"He's perfect," I reply.

Eric hums in agreement. "When he gets older, I'm going to teach him everything I know. I'm going to be there, Stiff."

"I know," I say.

Inhaling, he says, "I don't want to mess up. I want to be a good dad."

"You will be, Eric. He's going to love you," I insist.

He threads his fingers through mine, rests his cheek against the top of my head, and whispers, "Thank you. Thank you for giving me the chance to be with you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for giving me a family. It's more than I deserve, more than I ever hoped to have."

"When will you learn you deserve the world?" I ask. "Because you do, and the fact that I get to share my life with you? Eric, it's everything. You and Daniel are my everything."

"Good," he says, a smile in his voice.

"Would you like to hold him?" I ask.

I can't see his reaction, but I feel him stiffen. "I don't know how to," he replies.

"It's easy," I say. "You support his head."

I place our baby boy into Eric's arms. He awkwardly accepts the precious bundle. "I might break him," he says.

I laugh. "You won't," I promise.

I watch as he cradles Daniel to his chest, and I fall a little bit more in love with him. I didn't know it was possible. It is though.

I lay my head against the pillow, not taking my eyes off my two boys. This is my life now. This feeling, right here, right now, is something I'll never take for granted. It's something I'll never let slip through my fingers. What I have now is meant to be cherished, it's meant to be protected. And I will, at all costs.

 **Note -** jcampbell943 asked me to write a story where Tris finds out she's pregnant and she's uncertain of how Eric will take the news. Also, a protective Eric a few months into the pregnancy and Eric and Tris after she has the baby. I hope this doesn't disappoint, or fall short of what you had in mind! I'd hate to butcher such a fantastic idea.


	2. Chapter 2

This is my life now.

This unbelievably perfect life is mine.

He's a year old now. Daniel is a year old. How can that be? How has a year gone by so quickly? Too quickly.

"He's only one, Eric," Tris reminds me gently.

"I know."

My son is fast asleep in his crib. One chubby hand holds tightly to his blanket while the other one lays sweetly by his cheek. He's gotten so big and he's so full of life it breaks my heart and mends it all at once.

"Then stop looking like he's going to leave us tomorrow," she scolds, tugging me out of the bedroom.

I follow her into our bedroom, watching as she changes into pajamas, which consists of an old t-shirt of mine and nothing else.

I miss her being round with my child. I miss the mood swings and the sudden cravings in the middle of the night. I want another one. I haven't mentioned anything to Tris because I know she's not ready to go through pregnancy again, but my desire for another hasn't lessened with time.

"It's going by too fast," I say.

"He's one," she reminds me again.

She pads over and I place my hands behind her silken thighs, tugging her to stand between my legs. "One today, twenty tomorrow."

Her fingers find their way to my slicked-back hair, slipping and sliding through the strands. "We have plenty of time left, Eric. Enjoy it. Don't spend his childhood worrying about the future. He will always be in our lives."

Sighing, I press my forehead against her stomach. Would she be willing to have another child? Another one would be nice. Maybe a girl this time.

"I just want it to last forever," I mumble into her warm body.

I'm a damn greedy man. I want Tris and I want Daniel and I want whatever other little person we can create. I want it bad.

"Oh, Eric," she says.

Pulling back, I look up at her. She's gorgeous. She's cut her hair since Daniel was born. She said it was because she didn't have time to take care of Daniel _and_ her hair. It suits her.

"You want another one," she says.

My eyes widen. She knows? Have I been that obvious? "Tris?"

Small hands cup my face. "I know you."

Of course she does. She knows how much this family means to me. My fear of losing it or letting it pass me by hasn't escaped her notice. I hate the fear; it's a weakness I've grown tired of. It's a weakness I can't shake.

"I know you don't want another one right now and that's fine-"

"Eric."

"It's a lot to ask-"

"Eric."

"I would never pressure you-"

"Eric!"

"Yes?"

Her smile is soft. "I want another one too."

She's serious. Her face is earnest, her arms are steady around my form.

I stand up from our bed, I grab her hips, and I lift her up in the air. I get her squealing laughter as reward for my efforts.

"Right now?" I ask. "Do you want to start right now?"

She giggles at my eagerness. "Hold on, tiger," she says, grinning at me from under those eyelashes of hers.

"I don't want to hang on," I say, drawing her further into my embrace.

"Behave," she murmurs.

Behaving doesn't sound like much fun right now. I want to start enlarging our little family. Tonight. Right now.

Cradling her chin, I kiss her pink lips, savoring her tiny gasp, her sweet, succulent taste.

We're interrupted by the cry of our son. Giving her waist an affectionate squeeze, I move to go to Daniel's room. "Hold that thought," I say, smiling at her.

"It's my turn, you know," she says, smiling knowingly.

"I don't mind."

I thrive on this. All of this. The in-between-moments are what make my life meaningful. Times when I'm with Tris and I remember every moment of our past - the good and bad. Times when I'm holding Daniel, rocking him to sleep, and I don't think my life could ever get more perfect.

And soon - hopefully very soon - we'll have another child. I'll have Tris in my life, always. We're building something beautiful here. Something so beautiful.

0000

"Let him walk," Tris says, holding me back by my arm.

"I _am_ letting him walk," I tell her.

Daniel has finally taken his first steps, and he's been curiously wandering wherever we let him. Currently, he's stepping just a little too close to the chasm.

I scoop him up in my arms, ignoring the silent glare Tris gives me. Looking down at Daniel, I grin at his put-out expression he's sporting. Like mother, like son. I'm sure if he could talk, I'd be hearing his displeasure at being robbed of his independence.

"You're too protective," Tris says.

There's no anger in her voice, only gentle fondness.

Going to her, I kiss the top of her head. "I know."

"Just as long as you understand you can't guard him from everything that might hurt him."

She's right, but that won't stop me from trying. It's my favorite job. Her and Daniel are my world. I would give my life to protect them.

"I love you, Stiff," I whisper.

"Love you too," she replies, giving me a quick kiss.

Daniel babbles nonsense between us. Laughing, we kiss his cheeks, causing him to giggle in delight.

Life, my life, is almost unbearably...awesome.


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE -** This is set right at the end of chapter 15 in Am I Dead? This is how Eric felt while he was waiting for her to gain consciousness. I just got this idea and went with it. It's pretty short. And, yes, there will be more one-shots featuring Eric and his family, which will definitely include their new baby. :)

"Tell me she's going to be okay."

I'm staring at some young Erudite boy. He's been in charge of Tris' surgery. The procedure has lasted for hours, or for what has felt like hours.

She lost so much blood. Most of it is on me. Her blood stains my shirt and pants, but it feels like it's gone farther, seeping into my pores, tainting my own blood. It's a reminder of what I have to lose here.

"She's stabilized for now," he says warily.

He looks like he expects me to do him bodily harm. It makes sense. Erudite, as a united faction, has done a lot of damage. He's a boy though; he has nothing to fear from me tonight.

She's gonna be okay. Stabilized is good; stabilized is _fantastic._

"Let me see her."

I have to see her. I need to see and feel the steady rise and fall of her chest. I need to see her before I can truly believe that everything will be okay. It's gone past _want_ and _desire._

His face twists as if he's about to deny my request even though he must realize it's not in his best interest to deny me. I don't want to hurt him, but I'm not about to let him keep me from Tris. It's not going to happen.

Stepping into his personal space, I lock eyes with his icy blue ones. "Take me to her. Now."

With wide eyes, he nods his head quickly. "Follow me," he says.

I'm led to her room. It's a bare, white room much like the one we have back at Dauntless. The only difference is the advanced technology decorating the space. And lying in the bed is my girl.

"She's so pale. Is that normal?" I ask, running to her side.

"Perfectly normal," he reassures me.

She looks...she looks dead. Panic chokes me until I lay my hand over her chest, feeling for a pulse.

Thump

Thump

Thump

My eyes close shut. My face feels like it's out of my control. My eyebrows are crunched together, my mouth is pressed into a tight line to prevent any sound from escaping.

There's a soft click and then nothing. I don't have to turn around to know that Tris and I are now alone.

"I told you, you would be okay," I say to her still body.

It isn't right to see her like this. It makes her seem less, and Tris has never been less. She wouldn't even know how to go about it.

"Have I ever told you when I first realized I loved you?" I ask suddenly.

Silence. Silence fills the cracks in my composure. I'm on edge and I wish I smoked, or even drank. Anything to make this better.

Steady, Eric.

"It was when you took Al's place that day," I say quietly.

 _Move, Stiff. Do something. Anything. You were born to live, so live. Stop lying in that bed. Open your eyes. Just do something. Yell at me for not being able to stop her. Kiss me desperately because you thought we'd never get the chance to again. Love me like you promised me you would. But stop stop stop this. Wake up! Wake up. Please, baby. I'm here. You've got to be here too._

"No one has ever stood up to me like that," I continue on in a whisper. "I didn't know what to do with you then, and I don't know what to do with you now."

It should have been me. Jeanine shouldn't have had the opportunity to hurt Tris. I should have stopped her.

I can't stop thinking about the blood-curdling scream that rattled the glass. Like a song on repeat - it keeps re-playing itself in my mind.

"I had dreams of how I would tell you how I felt, you know," I say, laughing. "I never dreamed I'd just blurt it out like I did. Do you remember?"

My ability to breath lessens with every moment spent in this terrible, awful, silence. I know they said she was fine, considering, but how can I know that for sure? How can I trust that she's not going to be gone any second?

Today I watched her being tortured in front of my eyes. I saw things I can never un-see. I witnessed my girlfriend being branded like a cow, and through it all, she stayed strong. I saw a knife pierce her thigh and she laughed. _She laughed._

"It wasn't very smooth of me to confess my love while I had you trapped in my bed, was it?" I ask, voice shaking.

"I loved seeing you in my bed, by the way. I got this rush..." I push a piece of her hair behind her ear, taking comfort in the familiarity of the action.

"Once I saw you lying in my bed, well, I knew I had to find a way to keep you there," I attempt to tease.

Tears run unchecked down my cheeks. Hating the space separating us, I fit myself in the small hospital bed beside her. "Wake up, Stiff. Wake up."


	4. Chapter 4

Tris' POV (Daniel hasn't been born yet) I keep skipping around, I know, but I can't help it.

Love.

Depending on who you ask love can have many different meanings. Love can be someone's savior, or someone's downfall. It can be amazing and beautiful, or it can be painful and disappointing.

Love.

For me it's been both.

0000

"Get out."

I'm falling apart. My heart is breaking and it's more painful than I thought it would be. It's just like me to think I can handle whatever life throws at me. Surprise, surprise - I can't.

I harden myself against his apologetic eyes. It's too late for apologies.

"Get out, Eric," I repeat.

I hate that he ignores my wishes. I hate how he steps closer. I don't want him near me. Will I ever want him near me again? I don't know.

It doesn't matter.

"Tris," he pleads, hands stretched out as if he's about to touch me.

Jerking away, I fumble with the closet knob. "You won't leave? Fine. I'll go!" I yell, pulling an old duffle bag out.

Immediately, I race over to our dresser (his dresser). I grab pile after pile of my clothing. The duffle isn't going to hold everything, so I go to the closet and tug out our suitcase (my suitcase).

"I'm sorry, Tris. I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't," he says desperately.

He says that now, but he really did. I know he did.

"It doesn't matter," I reply.

"How can you say that?"

I pause at the question. Panting, I recall what started this fight. He came into our apartment (his apartment) angry. I remember him slamming the door and going to the kitchen, knocking around glasses before getting himself a cup of water.

I was worried about him. He hardly ever got like that, so I went up to him, I approached him and I asked him what was wrong. That's all. I asked him what was wrong. And he whirled around on me, screaming about how I never leave him alone. He got in my face and...

I can't do this. I can't have a baby and I can't handle the constant nightmares I have every night. I can't. I'm suffocating; I need out.

"I'm leaving," I say.

"Please, let's talk this out."

This is it? Is this the end? After everything, this is it? I'm leaving? ...I think so, yes.

I have everything I need. "Goodbye," I whisper, eyes focused on the closed door.

"No!" He yells, rushing to grab my arm. "You can't just leave. I was angry, and I'm sorry I took it out on you, but I'm not letting you leave without hearing what I have to say."

"There's nothing left to say, Eric!"

"Yes, there is!" He roars.

Despite my valiant efforts - I cringe, shrinking into myself. He releases me instantly once he sees my reaction. "I would never hurt you, Tris," he murmurs.

"You have though," I reply softly.

I watch him run a rough hand through this hair. He looks as lost and scared as I feel. It's like we've both transformed into people neither of us recognise, or it might just be me. This Eric isn't who I fell in love with.

"You said I was keeping you from freedom. That basically Daniel and I are a ball and chain to you."

I can't look at him; it hurts too much. Jeanine could never hurt me as bad as he did when he said those things to me.

"I didn't mean it," he says earnestly.

I take a deep breath. "But you said it."

"And I was wrong. I lost my temper. Today has been hard, and I lost control. I love you, Tris. I love our kid. I'm sorry."

My head is telling me that 'sorry' isn't enough. "Do you know how scared I was when I found out I was pregnant?" I ask, my voice turning bitter.

"I know you were," he says.

"Today you proved I was right to worry. You don't want this; you don't want me and this baby."

I turn away from his panic-filled eyes. I bend down to pull the duffle strap over my shoulder. My other hand clasps the handle of the suitcase. I walk to the heavy door. I twist the handle, the door opens several inches, and slams shut because Eric has pressed his hand firmly against the door.

"I'm _not_ going to lose you, Stiff," he says fervently.

He grabs both sides of my face passionately. He gives me a look I can't decipher, and he kisses me like the world is ending and we are about to be parted from each other forever. He presses his lips to mine, hard. Our bodies must have become fused together somehow because I can't tell where I end and he begins.

"I'm an idiot who deserves _nothing_ ," he confesses breathlessly. "Absolutely nothing."

His mouth finds mine again. He's more gentle now. Rather than demanding a response from me, he asks for it, begs for it. Emotions swirl around us. They're so strong, I find myself getting dizzy.

"Forgive me, Tris," he whispers, eyes boring into my hesitant gaze. "Just tell me you aren't leaving."

"Eric, I-"

"No," he says, shaking his head. "I'll do anything. I'll start painting the baby's room. I can fix the light in the bathroom, or I can buy you a new wardrobe," he promises, stumbling through the words, he's talking so fast.

"I don't care about any of that," I tell him.

His features freeze into place. Tears form in the corners of his eyes. " _Please._ "

My head turns to the side to stare at the closed door. A part of me still wants to run away. The words he snarled at me still smart and burn. Yet, I feel that if I walk through this door the pain will just get worse.

Squaring my shoulders, I gaze up at him. "Ever talk to me like that again and I'm done."

"Okay," he says, obviously relieved. "Come to bed?" He asks hesitantly, eyes hopeful.

"Yeah." I let him lead me to our bed. I don't protest when he crawls in behind me, pulling me into his warmth.

He's tense and I assume he's still worried and upset with himself. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. People say things they don't mean all the time when they're angry. It doesn't excuse him from anything, but I could have handled it better.

I snuggle into him. "I love you too," I say quietly.

His arm tightens around my midsection. Taking a deep breath, he nods against the back of my neck. I feel him mouth his reply against my sensitive skin.

 **unsINKABLE: I completely understand what you mean. I often feel the same way! I love reading angst with a happy ending, and I can't help but write it. It's a problem. :)**

 **BooksLover2000: Haha, the feels never get old. :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**This is Tris facing Jeanine a week after she woke up from the hospital. Jeanine asked to see her before her trial. For me this is closure.**

The hallway is long. Unmarked doors line both sides. The fluorescent lighting makes everything look yellow. The large man in front of me is silent. He hasn't said a word to me. Our social interaction so far has been limited to me following quietly behind him.

I push my quivering hands into the pockets of my wind breaker. I straighten my spine when he stops in front of the the last door on the left. We're here.

"You have 15 minutes," he says.

Once the locking mechanism recognizes his thumb print, he opens the door, waiting for me to cross the threshold. I stand there for several seconds and with a pounding heart, I walk into the cell.

Or a part of the cell. A large glass wall separates us.

She looks bad. She's lost weight and her normally pristine hair is matted to her head. The well-dressed, air-brushed woman has disappeared; a sickly, malnourished creature has taken her place.

I sit on the chair that's been placed close to the glass wall. She watches me from her spot on the bed. Her posture is sloppy, her legs planted wide, it's nothing like how she used to face the world.

"They're going to kill me," she says.

I can hear her perfectly. "That's what I heard," I reply.

It's strange to be facing her after what happened. She seemed so invincible before and now...well, now she seems small.

"You must be happy," she observes.

I don't know what I am. Conflicted would be closer to the truth I think. Relieved would be a better word to describe the tornado of emotions I'm feeling. Her death will prevent her from hurting anyone ever again. That's what really matters.

"Why did you want to see me?" I ask.

"I wanted to see if you'd come."

I smile at that. Trust Jeanine to challenge me till the end. "I came."

Returning my smile, she says, "I didn't think I'd ever be facing my own execution."

"I hope it was worth it," I tell her seriously.

"I acted on my beliefs."

"And now you're here," I say.

"Now I'm here," she agrees quietly.

I glance at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes left. In ten minutes I'll never see Jeanine Matthews again. It's a heady thought.

"I'm surprised Eric isn't with you," she says.

It's a question, I can tell. Probably her way of baiting me. "I asked him not to. This is my fight."

Leaning back against the concrete wall, she grins at me. "You think you two will last?" She asks.

"I believe in him," is all I say in response.

"I don't regret it," she says. "I don't regret what I did to you."

"I don't regret any of it either."

Standing from the bed, she stalks towards me. "You're lying."

I remain seated, the glass the only thing keeping her from laying a hand on me. "You can't break me, Jeanine. You can try till you're no longer breathing, but it'll be wasted effort."

She thought she could get the last word in by sending for me, but she's going to die and no one will miss her, no one will mourn her passing. She's weak and she's powerless.

"Divergents like you are dangerous. You're going to destroy the world. You're going to ruin everything," she spits out.

Her anger no longer fools me. "You're scared. You don't want to die," I say.

"I don't fear death," she denies, pacing back and forth.

"Everyone fears the unknown."

She stops pacing, looks at me, and presses a fist against her mouth. "I'm going to die today," she says as if she just realized her fate.

Pity is a terrible thing. "You are."

Her stringy, dirty hair flies as she shakes her head furiously. "This isn't right."

"This is the only right thing you've ever been a part of," I say.

5 minutes.

"I'm not afraid," she lies.

"Okay."

"Would you be if you were in my place?"

"I'd be terrified."

"Will you celebrate my death?"

"I won't."

The door buzzes and the guard says, "Times up."

I stand. "Goodbye, Jeanine Mathews."

"Goodbye, Beatrice Prior."

I don't look back. I don't watch her execution (I was told she smiled the whole time). I didn't cheer that night. I didn't mourn her, but I felt no joy in her demise. It was sad, her death. What Jeanine could have been and what she was, were two different things.

 **I love you guys! The encouragement you all give me is priceless. Lol, every favorite, every follow, every comment makes me smile. It's great. Like seriously awesome. :)**

 **I wanted to let everyone know I'm more than happy to take prompts, so if anyone has any ideas, I would love to hear them! If not that's fine too, just keep it in mind. Feel free to leave a comment or PM me.**


	6. Chapter 6

**For BooksLover2000. i hope this doesn't disappoint. Feel free to be honest. :) **

**This is set in the future. Tris is four months pregnant with her second child. Daniel is almost two years old.**

I didn't tell Eric I loved him this morning. I was in too much of a rush to kiss Daniel goodbye.

"Please, don't do this," I beg.

My baby. A sob tears it's way through my throat. Tears turn my world into a fuzzy blur. I ache.

His smirk is nothing less than pure evil. "I don't remember you being this pathetic, Stiff."

I gasp for my next breath. I try to claw his fingers from my throat to no avail.

He squeezes viciously. "So weak," he hisses.

Things go black around the edges. I quell the panic I feel. Breathing is becoming a thing of the past. My chest burns and gravity is doing everything it can to pull me to the floor, his hard grip on my throat the only thing keeping me from collapsing.

"I guess I shouldn't expect much from Eric's pet."

"Peter," I get out through what little air he's allowed me.

"Yes?" He asks, eyebrows raised, looking at me expectantly.

This is a game I have no chance of winning. He's the cat, I'm the mouse... and I'm trapped.

His face darkens in anger. He releases me, throwing me against the wall of the apartment. My head hits the edge of the bookcase Eric put up last night. Pain explodes in my skull, my vision goes in and out while I fight the nausea building in my stomach.

"I got stuck in a cell!" He yells. "I lost everything because of you!"

Blood slips down my temple. Hands splayed over the carpet, I move to get up, but my body won't cooperate.

"You obviously got out," I say, stating the obvious.

"Because of months of good behavior," he replies, disgust coloring every word, every syllable.

I can't lift my head. It's too heavy, and I'm so tired.

For the millionth time, I wish I hadn't opened the door. I wish I hadn't been home alone when Peter came calling. No, that's not right. Eric and Daniel are safe. They're not here. They aren't facing this monster - they're safe.

"Are you sorry for what you put me through?" He asks, coming to stand over me.

"Yes, I'm sorry."

I'll say anything, I'll do anything to protect my baby. If that means groveling to Peter, then so be it.

"Say it like you mean it," he encourages.

"I'm sorry for what I put you through, Peter," I whisper meekly.

"I don't believe you," he singsongs.

Bending over, he yanks my head back by my hair. "I'm sorry!" I cry out.

"It's not enough," he tells me.

Without another word, or any indication of what he's about to do, he grabs the hammer Eric left out by his toolbox and he brings it down on my leg.

I scream, the sound hitting and bouncing off the walls. My leg is broken. Peter and I both heard the sickening crack.

"That's better," he says.

It hurts. Everything hurts, but my leg pulses mercilessly in pain. "Please," I whimper.

"You still don't get it, do you? You deserve to die for what you did to me. You and Eric both really, but, unfortunately, all I have is you. I suppose I can content myself with that," he says, sighing regretfully.

I bite my tongue to keep from blurting out all the things I want to say. Like how he deserved everything he got, and how I'll never let him hurt Eric. If I have to stand on my broken leg, I'll do it. He isn't going to touch Eric.

"Not going to beg for mercy anymore, Stiff?" He taunts.

I glare at him in silence. "No? Well, I guess I can use this handy tool for other parts of your body," he murmurs thoughtfully.

I don't have a chance to reply before he's slams the heavy metal on my hand. It's too much. The pain is too much for me to handle anymore.

I start to let go. I let my mind drift from what's happening to me. I tell myself it's okay to let go. I've earned the right to sleep.

0000

Eric's POV

I hear the scream while I'm walking down the hallway to our apartment. It hits me full force.

"Mommy?" Daniel asks, looking up at me.

"Mommy's fine," I reassure him, walking faster down the hall.

I've got to get to Tris. Something's wrong.

I set Daniel down when I reach the door. "Stay here, Daniel."

His eyes get watery. He grabs my leg with his chubby fists. "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy."

"Mommy's going to be fine. Stay here. I'll be back," I promise.

I pray he listens.

Wasting no time, I ram the door open. Lying on the floor unconscious, is Tris. Above her, Peter stands with a hammer clenched in his tight fist.

He whips his head around to face me. "Eric," he says stupidly.

Peter is supposed to be locked up, but he's here. Somehow he got out and he's here.

Tris. She's not moving. Her right leg is twisted at an odd angle; blood is running down her face. I catalogue her injuries from what feels like a distance.

"What have you done?" I ask quietly.

He swallows heavily, his fingers flex around his makeshift weapon. "Eric," he repeats.

I move. I run at him, ducking from the hammer he swings at me. I punch him in the nose, grab the arm holding the tool, and I twist it out of joint cruelly, relishing in his cry of pain.

"I told you to never touch her again," I remind him.

Cuffing the side of his head, I knee him in the stomach repeatedly. "I said I would kill you if you ever dared to do anything to her," I whisper in his now-bloody ear.

"Do it then," he half yells, half whispers.

I turn my eyes to Tris. She needs a doctor.

Looking back at Peter, I snarl, and I hit him directly in the face again, causing him to black out. I make sure he's really out before I fall to my knees beside Tris.

I pull her torso onto my lap. "Baby?"

She doesn't wake up.

"Okay," I breathe. "Stay calm. Stay calm."

Gathering my scattered wits, I pick her up, hoping the movement doesn't hurt her.

"Mommy?" Daniel asks from the doorway.

"She's okay, Danny. Follow daddy, okay?"

Looking a little less worried, he says, "Okay."

I get to the Dauntless hospital as soon as possible, yelling for help once I've cleared the doors. A volunteer nurse rushes over, taking Tris from me.

"I've got to find someone to watch my son," I say frantically.

"We'll take care of that," he assures me.

Everything past that point is a blur. There's nurses and doctors talking over each other, working speedily to take care of Tris. I hear her screaming in agony when they set her bones. It's horrible, but what's even worse is the silence that follows her screams.

I sit in a hard, uncomfortable chair with my head in my hands, hoping and praying for her to be okay.

I get up from the chair I'd been sitting in when the nurse comes out. "She's asking for you."

I don't wait for the nurse, I just go. I feel like I'm running out of time, like I'm always running out of time, and today Peter almost made the timer turn to zero. I could have lost her and our unborn child. I run from the thought, slamming a mental shield down from it and me.

"I want to see my son," I hear her demand from outside the door to her _temporary_ room.

"You need your rest," a male voice responds calmly.

"Tris," I say, stepping into her room.

Her eyes connect with mine and I see the physical pain she's trying to hide. Already, she's trying to pretend everything's fine.

"Eric, they won't bring Danny to me," she complains, eyes flashing fire.

Nodding for the doctor to leave, I make my way to her. "I'll bring him," I promise, "but first I want to know what happened."

She closes her eyes, hiding whatever emotion she's feeling from me. "Peter knocked on the door, I didn't check before I opened it, and he got in," she says matter-of-factly.

"How did he get out of prison?"

She snorts. "Good behavior apparently."

"Can I sit?" I ask, eyeing the bed.

Her expression softens slightly. She pats the spot beside her hip. "Did he get away?" She asks softly.

"I took care of him," I reply. "Four went and collected him while they were taking care of you," I clarify when she gives me a worried look.

"That's good."

I run my fingers over the bandage covering the side of her forehead. "Are you okay?"

"Of course. Just a few broken bones and a nasty cut on my head is all."

Her brave front doesn't fool me. "I'm not fine," I admit. "I feel like we spend most of our time in hospitals."

It's more like I spend too much time almost losing her.

Her eyes focus on her hands. "I'm sorry for not being more careful."

"Never apologize for something like that again," I say firmly. "None of this is your fault."

"We could have lost the baby," she whispers, her voice tight with pain.

"But we didn't, and if we did, it still wouldn't be your fault."

She doesn't reply, but I know she doesn't believe me because Tris always blames herself, forever under the delusion that she could have been smarter when bad things happen. What she doesn't understand is that bad things can happen no matter how careful you are.

I scoot closer. I press a kiss to her sweaty forehead. "Thank God you're okay."

Her unbroken hand slides around my neck, keeping our faces close together. "I was so afraid I'd never see you and Danny again," she says, silent tears running down her cheeks.

Finally, she's letting me in.

Both of my arms snake around her waist, pulling her to me. "It's okay," I soothe. "We're okay," I say over and over again.


	7. Chapter 7

Eric's POV

"Would you marry me?"

No, that's wrong. I sound too demanding. The last time I sounded too insecure. The time before that I stumbled my way through the entire question like an idiot.

 _You want this. You want her. You want to be committed in every way, and you want to broadcast that commitment to the world. You have a son and a little girl on the way. You've been with her for so long that you can't remember a time when she wasn't a part of your life, and it doesn't matter because whatever happened before her was just the prologue to the main story._

I clench my hands to discourage their shaking. I take a deep breath to ease the fire burning in my lungs. This should be easy. After everything, marriage should be a piece of cake. Except it isn't. Not by a long shot. The reason: she could say no. What if she says no? Could we pretend that I hadn't asked if she says no, or would it ruin everything?

I stare into the mirror. "Will you marry me, Beatrice Prior?"

No, no, no. She hates her name. I can't call her Beatrice.

"Marry me, Stiff," I try again.

Could I be any less romantic?

Growling, I move away from the mirror. This is stupid. Marriage is stupid. I'm stupid.

After all these years, after all this time, I haven't been able to keep my fears, my insecurities, at bay. I can't run from them; I can't hide.

My greatest fear? Losing what I have. Most go through life taking what they have for granted, but I'm the complete opposite.

"I need you," I whisper to myself. "Marry me, Tris."

Too needy.

How do I describe all the ways I need her without sounding like a needy fool? How do I tell her how much she changed my life without looking like a sentimental idiot? And she knows these things. She knows how I feel about her whether I tell her or not. She knows me.

This is important though. I want to do this right. She should be able to look back and have no regrets. The proposal has to be perfect. The ring has to be perfect. Her family needs to be on board and supportive. Her family...

Her mother will be thrilled. Over the years, I've been able to form a relationship with Natalie. We get along, and we both love her daughter. I rarely see her father. He doesn't visit regularly, and his relationship with Daniel is practically non-existent.

He's never said anything to me, but it doesn't take a genius to know he doesn't approve. It's clear he expected better for his daughter than me. It angers Tris, but I can understand. My past isn't exactly...pretty. I can already imagine how I'll feel when my baby girl gets old enough to fall in love. I'm going to be a mess.

If I asked his permission, would that help? Would he feel better about Tris and I? It would mean a lot to Tris to have her father's blessing. His disapproval of the life we've created together weighs on her. Doing what I can to remedy their relationship is the least I can do for her.

So I guess I'm going to Abnegation.

0000

He's gracious. He hides it well, but he's not happy to see me.

Natalie offers me tea, which I decline, and she gives me a kind smile as I follow her husband into his study.

"What can I do for you, Eric?" He asks politely.

Best to just get it over with. "I want to marry your daughter."

He's clearly surprised. He stares at me as he lowers himself into the closest chair. "Marriage," he says, voice flat.

"I'm here for your blessing," I say firmly because I don't back down.

He folds his hands in his lap. "I must say I'm surprised."

"That I'm here, or that I'm asking for your permission?"

A faint glimmer of amusement shines from his eyes. Tris has her father's eyes.

"Both," he admits.

"Your blessing would make Tris happy," I say. "And I didn't think you'd come to Dauntless," I add.

He taps his fingers against the arm of the wood chair. "Why do you want to marry Beatrice?"

"I love her."

"And why now? You have been an item for quite some time. You have a child together. Why get married now?" He questions.

"Marriage is rare in Dauntless," I confess. "I didn't consider it until recently." I lean forward. "The thing is, Andrew, I love Tris and I want to be hers in every way as much as I want her to be mine. I would love to have your blessing, and it would mean the world to Tris."

Looking away, he seems to be lost in thought. "My wife likes you. My daughter is in love with you. It would seem I'm outnumbered."

He smiles at the floor wistfully. "You have my blessing."

The relief I feel is more than just achieving my goal. His blessing means a lot to me. It means more than I thought it would. I came here thinking this was for Tris, but I see now it was for me too.

"Thank you," I say sincerely.

"No, thank you, son. I appreciate you coming here."

I get to my feet as soon as he does. "Maybe we could come over more," I offer. "Daniel would love to get to know his grandfather."

This is one of those things in life that needs to be done right. Family isn't something I grew up with, but I've had it with Tris and Daniel. I think I'd like to have Andrew Prior in our lives more often as well.

"Natalie would like that," he says in a way that tells me he wouldn't mind either.

We walk to the door side by side. I wonder what what it would have been like for me to have someone like Andrew in my life when I was young. I imagine my life would have turned out much different.

I pause just outside the door. "I'll see you soon," I say.

"You will," he says, nodding. "And good luck with the proposal."

Right.


	8. Chapter 8

The sun is bearing down on me, the weight of its warmth making me deliciously drowsy. I got little rest lady last night because the baby kept kicking and my back ached like it hadn't since I was pregnant with Danny. I love my baby boy more than life itself, but I certainly didn't love being pregnant for nine months.

"Have I told you I love you today?" Eric asks from the driver's seat, his eyes smiling at me with so much emotion I'm humbled.

I smile and reach for his free hand resting on the gear shift, lacing our fingers together, his dark skin a stark contrast next to my pale coloring. "Only a few dozen times."

He draws our linked hands to his mouth, and presses a soft kiss to my knuckles, the touch lingering. "I never want you to forget," he says, his voice husky and warm like the sun pouring in through the windows.

Biting my lip to keep my smile from splitting my face in half, I run my thumb over the back of his hand, marveling at how such a rough hand can be so gentle with me and Daniel, yet be hard and cruel when the situation calls for it. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?" I ask.

"Not a chance, Stiff," he replies, squeezing my hand affectionately.

I woke up this morning to breakfast in bed. He had already sent Danny to spend the day with "Uncle Four". He wouldn't tell me what occasion we were celebrating, but he has treated me like a princess all day, ushering me into the truck as soon as I'd gotten ready, telling me he had a surprise for me.

Eric shows his love in different ways, but I would never describe him as being romantic, which is fine because I don't need romance, I need Eric, so when I woke up to my favorite breakfast - chocolate chip pancakes and bacon - I knew something was up. The bubble bath had been the last straw. Eric and I had spent a great deal in our shower _together_ , but today was the first time he had prepared a bath for me for no other reason than to pamper me.

Slightly frustrated and more than a little curious, I scan the passing scenery, searching for a clue as to where we were going. The further from Dauntless we got, the more I was starting to see certain familiar landmarks. Broken down, crumbling buildings, old roads directing us forward, and...

"The Ferris Wheel," I whisper in awe.

It looks just like it did when Eric I and first climbed it all those years ago: rusty from weather and age, but still standing proud.

"Yeah." I whip my head to face him. He's smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes. His dark gaze is shy and uncertain as he watches me carefully in the early morning light. He hasn't looked quite this vulnerable since he first declared his love for me.

"Why did you bring me here?" I ask, exhaling the breath I've been holding since I first set eyes on the Ferris Wheel.

I watch as he opens the door to the truck, tugging his hand out of my hold, grinning hesitantly at me from under his eyelashes. "Come with me," he encourages.

Slowly we head for the carnival attraction, hand in hand once again, one heart curious and eager, the other beyond worried at what might happen in the next few minutes.

Standing in front of our old haunt, I feel a little sad by how much time has passed since we had last visited. "I wish I was able to climb it," I murmur, my head tilted back to see the Ferris Wheel in all its glory.

"Tris," Eric prods.

Turning my head to him, I find him kneeling beside me, a small velvet box held in the palm of his hand. I gasp, my free hand slapping over my mouth in astonishment. "Eric."

With shaking fingers he opens the box, revealing a black diamond ring sparkling brightly. The simple princess-cut diamond was surrounded with glittering white diamonds. It was beautiful, and I didn't know what to say, so I settled with, "Eric."

"I...You're my love, my life, Tris," he starts, his voice shaky. "You are more amazing than words can describe. I don't tell you that enough. You wormed your way into my heart and you made a home there before I even knew what love was."

Pausing, he slips the ring out of the box, and holds it up for me to either accept or reject. "You're my best friend, Tris. You're my lover. You're the mother of my children, and there's no one in this world or any other that would be better for me than you. Right here is where you first told me you loved me, and right here is where I want to ask you an important question."

Inhaling through his nose, he gazes up at me earnestly, his eyes unsure and a little terrified. "I'm asking from the purest part of my heart - I would love nothing more than if you would honor me further by agreeing to be my wife," he ends in a whisper.

Staring at the ring in his grip, I think about what he's asking. Marriage...I grew up to believe it was binding and I always thought if I got married I would make sure the person I was marrying would forever be the One. It would be binding; there would be no take backs.

It's funny, but I never imagined I would marry Eric. Not because I couldn't see myself tying myself to him in all ways, but because I never thought he wanted to be married. He certainly never brought it up before.

"Say something," he begs, panting as if he'd just run a race and couldn't seem to find his breath.

Promptly, I fall to my knees in front of him. "You want this?" I question, needing to make sure he wasn't doing this for me. Had I been unconsciously pressuring him into thinking I wanted this? I don't want him to do this if he doesn't really want to. I can live perfectly happily without a ring and a piece of paper if that's what he wants.

"Yes, I do," he vows breathlessly.

 _Marriage_ , I think. Marriage with Eric. Laughing, I pull him closer by the back of his neck, my mouth closing over his frantically, desperately. "Yes," I reply softly when I release him.

"Yes?" he asks hopefully, grasping for my hand, pausing to look into my eyes before slipping the engagement ring all the way on.

"Yes," I promise. "I'll marry you."

The ring fits like a glove, and his face shines proudly as he fingers the band. "You're going to be my wife," he says quietly, the words possessive.

"And you're going to be my husband," I say reverently, already loving the word as it slips from my tongue.

Closing his eyes, his smile is glorious in its happiness. It takes _my_ breath away. We're going to be married. I'm going to have a husband. I'm going to have Eric, and he's going to have me. Forever.

 **Hope it brought a smile to your face!**


	9. Chapter 9

Eric's POV

"Get out of the way!" I shout at some stupid man who won't remove his person from the path. "My wife's having a baby," I growl threateningly, glaring daggers at him.

I'm running past the imbecile as soon he moves, trying to reach Alice, Tris' midwife, before the baby pops out. Just like with Daniel, I'm scared out of my mind that something will happen to Tris or the baby. Me not being there makes the situation worse because anything could happen and I wouldn't know.

"Alice!" The make-shift hospital looks empty when I rush through the entryway. "Alice!" I call again, walking further into into the deserted area, looking for anyone who might be able to help me, or at least find Alice.

"Eric?" The pink-haired Dauntless woman came out from a room marked supplies, a bright smile covering her dark complexion. "Is it time?"

"Yes, the baby's coming," I say fearfully, completely impatient to get back to Tris. Pushing her out the door, I drag her down the hallway, and down the stairs.

"We've done this before, Eric," Alice reminds me gently. "Everything is going to be fine."

 _I hope so. Everything has to be okay._

Inside our living room, I leave Alice to follow, and I dart into the bedroom like an army is on my tail. "Stiff?" I ask her, worried that something horrible I'd been imagining had happened.

"I'm fine, baby," she pants. Her brow shines with sweat, her hands are clenching the covers, her face already looks tired.

"Ready to have a baby?" Alice asks excitedly.

Laughing, Tris gives her a thumbs up. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Alice slaps gloves on while Tris groans through what looks like a painful contraction. "Okay," Alice says smiling reassuringly. "Let's get this show on the road."

* * *

 _12 hours later_

"Can you believe it?" Tris whispers. "We have a little girl."

Said baby girl lying peacefully in her mother's arms. "Mercy," I say softly. "I want to name her Mercy."

Humming thoughtfully, Tris runs her pointer finger down the baby's soft cheek. "That's a pretty name." Grinning happily, she kisses my cheek lightly. "Mercy it is," she declares.

"Mommy? Daddy?" Daniel announces his presence to his parents. Standing in the doorway to their bedroom, the little boy looks up at them curiously.

"I'm sorry, but he insisted on coming in," Four apologizes, bending down to pick Daniel up.

"It's fine," Tris says. "Would you like to see your new sister, Danny?" she asks our boy, removing the blanket from around Mercy's face.

Daniel seems hesitant, his tiny face turned to Mercy, his grey eyes focused on her small face. Slowly, he nods his assent, and Four places him on the bed next to me.

"I want a brother,"Danny declares. He's leans towards the baby, his face scrunched up in consternation.

Tris chuckles under her breath, her eyes full of exhaustion, but still joyful. Her expression is complacent, which is her way of telling me that she wants me to handle the problem.

Four leaves the room, a smile on his usually somber face. He's probably loving this. Drawing my son to my side, I ruffle his shaggy brown hair playfully. "Maybe next time, Danny. I'm afraid you're stuck with your sister."

Innocent eyes look up into mine. "Can't we take her back?"

Tris and I both laugh at the question. "I'm afraid not, buddy." I stoop to press a kiss to his head, laughing when he pulls a face at the mushy gesture. Already he's an independent little tyke.

"Why not?" he demands, sounding a lot like I used to when I didn't get my way.

"Because it doesn't work that way, sweetheart," Tris chimes in.

Giving Mercy a considering look, Daniel pushes himself to his feet by his hands, climbing over my lap like a wild monkey get to his destination. "Will she play games with me?"

"Not for awhile," I say, giving him the bad news.

"Nuts," he grumbles.

Smiling at Tris over his head, I say, "You're her big brother, Danny. That means you have a very important job - I'm going to need you're help protecting her. We need to keep her safe like we do for mommy."

Turning to me, understanding begins to dawn in eyes that are so similar to Tris'. "Protect mommy," he states proudly. He glances at Tris, then Mercy. "Protect sissy?" he questions.

"Yes, we need you to help protect sissy," Tris murmurs, running her fingers through his messy hair, her nimble fingers trying to restore a semblance of order.

Falling to his knees between us, he hugs the bottom part of Mercy's blanket. "I protect sissy."

We'll protect each other. We're a team. A family.

* * *

 _18 years later_

 _Mercy is a young adult, and she's in love. With Peter's son. Random, I know._

"I don't want him in this house," Eric fumes, his face red from repressed rage. "I don't want him anywhere near _Mercy_."

It's been a hard day. When Mercy came home with James, Peter's one and only child, Eric and Daniel both flipped, their furious glances and stiff postures were enough for Mercy to figure out her father and brother most definitely did not approve of her new boyfriend.

I knew this day would come. I knew Eric would disapprove of whoever stole our daughter's heart, no matter who the young man was, but I never imagined she would fall for Peter's son.

"We need to stay calm," I remind my husband. "Mercy is a smart young woman, she knows what she's doing, and if she cares for James, then we've got to respect her decision."

5, 4, 3, 2, 1... "Please, tell me you're kidding. Let her ruin her life? That's not going to happen," he says dismissively.

Patience has never been a virtue of mine; it has never come naturally for me. Two children and a husband for almost 19 years has made me learn the benefits of patience, however. "Eric," I soothe, getting up from the chair in the kitchen to stand before him. "She's 18 years old, which means she's entitled to be with this young man if she wants to be. Don't make her push us away."

His agonized expression breaks my heart. He's always loved Mercy so much. Him and Daniel both are overprotective of her, but she's always loved it. I love it as well. Knowing my daughter has us, gives my heart peace. I never want her to feel like I did - not understood and alone. "He's going to be bad for her, Stiff," he whispers, his eyes begging for me to fix what he considers to be a huge problem.

"We don't know anything about him. He might be completely different from his father, and if he's not then we will kick his ass," I proclaim fiercely.

He slides his hands around my waist, and takes a deep, calming breath, exhaling slowly. "I hate this," he murmurs against my throat. "My little girl is in love with Peter's son."

"It's going to be alright," I vow, meaning it with all my heart. We've gone through worse than this. We'll make it through this like we've made it through everything else. Sighing, I kiss Eric's cheek sweetly. "Now get back in there, and tell Daniel to behave. We hardly need him shooting James before we learn anything about him," I scold lightly. "The mess would be atrocious."

 **I'll probably write one more one-shot that's basically a sequel to this chapter. That way we can see Eric interact with Mercy a little more. After that I'll probably be done. I would gladly take prompts though, so keep that in mind.**


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